Memoirs of Rain
by arisu-the-pink
Summary: Almost a decade after the coma that stole three years of her adolescence, Higurashi Kagome finally has her life together. That is, until a chance encounter with a brooding historian awakens within her mysterious and impossible dreams. What does this man k
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Inuyasha and all related characters and settings are the intellectual property of Rumiko Takahashi. Just borrowing them for playtime!

**Memoires of Rain**

"Just two more months, Hojo-chan. You can wait two more months, right?"

Higurashi Kagome rolled her eyes in mock irritation at the cell phone clasped in her wet right hand. Her boyfriend's voice continued to whine out of the speaker in the same old pleading song-and-dance they'd endured for the last several weeks now.

"Honey, I have to go," she cut him off during third stanza of 'please come home early, Ka-chan.' He'd been at it for the last twenty minutes as she strode down the dark, rainy Boston street towards her apartment, outright begging her to ask her boss for an early leave.

"But, Kagome, it's been eight months already!"

"And two more months won't hurt you. Besides," she jumped a bit at a particularly bright flash of lightning, "you could always hop a plane and come VISIT me for once."

Silence reigned on the line, broken now and then by the pitter-patter of raindrops upon her tiny umbrella.

At last Hojo spoke again, "You're right, I can take some time off. Will you find me a plane ticket tonight?"

"For a flight next week?"

"Yes, please."

Kagome nodded as though he could see her, making a mental note on her to-do list. "All right, I'll email you the intinerary."

"I love you, Ka-chan."

"Love you too, Hojo."

"Kisses?"

"And hugs," she replied, blushing a bit at the strange looks she was receiving from the few people passing her on the rain-soaked street. With a quick kiss sound bestowed upon her caller, she bid him good-bye and clapped the phone closed, pushing it deep into the pocket of her leather coat.

Four more blocks and she'd be home, Kagome sighed with relief. It had been an unbelievably long day at the office, filled with report after report plopped onto her desk for her perusal. If she never saw another sales projection spreadsheet it would be too soon. Never mind the annoyance of having to look up every other flowery word used by the newer staff members. Her English was amazingly good for a foreigner but who the hell used the word 'ubiquitous' in every day speech?

Scanning the week's schedule on her PDA, Kagome failed to notice the approach of a rather questionable-looking man on the otherwise empty and darkened sidewalk. The white noise of continually pouring rain and the shadows of fading streetlights combined with dire consequences when she felt the blunt end of an object poked into her back and a gravelly voice demanding she hand over her purse.

Now Higurashi Kagome was a very intelligent woman, known for making exceedingly rational decisions even in the most extreme situations. She also, however, possessed an inordinate amount of pride and five years of training in self-defense.

Twisting around swiftly, she knocked the object away and elbowed her attacker in the groin. He grunted, bending over in pain. "You fucking bitch!"

Kagome backpeddled, sparing a quick glance to the object lying a few feet away from her would-be mugger. A gun. She felt her blood run cold but forced herself back into action. She kicked the gun further away, watching as it slid into a curb-side drain before turning back to the man who was by now glaring daggers at her. His eyes shot from side to side, assessing the situation until he finally decided on retreat. Still clutching his midsection, he broke out into a hobbling run through a nearby alleyway.

A huge breath of relief passed through her lips as Kagome allowed her heartbeat to calm. After another moment, she stepped back toward the sidewalk...

and yelped.

"Dammit all to hell!" Now crumpled on the ground clutching her ankle, Kagome felt the tears welling up in her eyes. "Of all the fucking luck..."

Nearby a door squeaked open, revealing nothing but the shadow of its owner backlit by flickering orange light. The shadow-figure stood still, eyes watching the defeated woman crouching before his front stoop. Kagome didn't know whether to cry from relief or to run.

The silence became horribly uncomfortable. "Um, excuse me," she began cautiously, "but do you think you could call an ambulance?"

Without a word in response the figure -- which Kagome could definitely identify as a man now -- swept to her side and knelt before her. He picked up her aching ankle, inspecting it despite her shocked protests. At last he let go of the injured leg, leaning forward to gather her in his arms and carry her off towards his home.

"Excuse me, but I think I'd prefer to wait outside if you don't mind."

The man continued to walk in silence, holding just tight enough to keep her from squirming out of his grasp. Eventually he made it to a rather old but well-kept drawing room and deposited his burden on the settee closest to the fireplace. Still silent, he strode toward a cherry wood armoire and retrieved a cardboard box before returning to her side once again and seating himself on the ottoman in front of her.

He worked quickly and quietly, pulling Kagome's leg onto his lap and wrapping it up carefully in a long swatch of elastic bandage. The shell-shocked young woman watched his work, satisfied for the moment that he meant her no harm and relieved to be out of the rain. When at last he finished his task, he pushed the box aside and sat back on the ottoman, giving Kagome her first real look at his features.

A wealth of contradictions, Kagome struggled to make sense of his appearance. He was dark, as though he'd spent numerous hours out in the sun, but the skin she could see on his bare forearms and his face lacked the leathery, worn appearance she would have expected from such exposure. In fact, from her vantage point it appeared smooth and soft as it stretched over hard, muscular limbs.

His violet eyes bespoke wisdom far beyond his years, as they peered back at her stoically from beneath his long, ebony locks of hair. She squelched the sudden desire to reach out and touch him; to see if this figure robed in simple but expensive clothing was real.

Still he hadn't spoken. This fact unnerved her far more than anything else that had happened over the last ten minutes. Hesitantly, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Th-thank you."

He nodded brusquely, the enigmatic spell between them broken when he pushed away from her to return his first aid kit to its hiding place.

"My name is Kagome," she ventured further, beginning to wonder if her rescuer was mute. Or deaf.

"Yasha," he replied in a low, rumbling voice.

Or...not.

"Yasha? That's an unusual name."

He shot her an indecipherable look before settling himself down on the arm chair nearest the fireplace and taking up a nearby journal and pen.

Irritated at his sudden dismissal, Kagome glared at the stranger for a moment. When he began to write she huffed and attempted to stand, only to come crashing back down to the ground.

"Going to walk on a sprained ankle?" Yasha questioned abrasively without looking up from his work.

Kagome directed an indignant stare back at the man. "Well I don't see any other option."

"You'll be fine in the morning," he almost sighed. "Until then you can stay here." Yasha glanced at her over his journal for a brief moment, then added, "but I wouldn't stay on the floor."

With another irritated glare, Kagome pulled herself up off the floor and scooted along the leather settee until she was halfway reclining along it. For a good ten minutes she sat in silence, staring around the drawing room surrounding her with not another word spoken between herself and Yasha.

All four walls were lined with bookshelves which were themselves lined with volume upon volume of aged tomes. If she squinted she could decipher the titles of a few closer books, many of which were written in older Japanese kanji.

"Are you an antiques dealer or something?"

"No."

"A writer?"

Kagome could have sworn the man growled at her, but stifled the ridiculous notion. A few more tense and silent moments later, she cleared her throat.

"So, what do you do?"

Yasha stopped writing, but refused to lift his eyes from the journal in which he'd been steadily scrawling away. "You're a talker, aren't you?" Without waiting for a response, he dropped the pen into the fold of the journal and closed it, finally regarding his guest with barely concealed annoyance. "I was a writer," he answered her question.

"Any of these books yours?"

"All of them."

Kagome raised her eyebrow. "There has to be over four hundred of them."

"And your point is?"

"Never mind."

Yasha began to hope she was done questioning him when she opened her mouth to speak again. "So what are you writing now?"

"A book." He hid a smirk at her irritated stare.

"What KIND of book?"

The woman was implacable. With another growling sound of frustration, he sat further back in his chair and studied her. "A history book."

"With no reference materials?"

"I have all the reference materials I need right here," he pointed to his head.

Kagome narrowed her eyes again. Either this man was a crackpot, or he went far deeper than she could even begin to imagine. The look in his eyes suggested the latter, and she found herself compelled to probe further.

"Would you share some of it with me?"

"Why should I?" he shot back heatedly.

Kagome pouted while inwardly berating herself for her childish behavior. She was a respected business woman for Kami's sake! "Because I'm bored," she finally answered him.

"You don't want to hear this story," Yasha retorted.

"How do you know?"

Rolling his eyes in ever-increasing ire, "because this isn't the kind of history book meant for people like you."

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Yasha didn't respond, but lifted the pen and began to write once again.

"Mr. Yasha..."

More writing.

"Please?"

Scrawl, scritch, swipe...

"Must be a really pathetic author if you're afraid to share your stories."

He paused for a second, only to smirk and continue.

"Oh for the love of--" Kagome sat up again, resolving to make her way out of this frustrating man's home and back to her own apartment. She didn't know why she'd been so easily convinced to stay in the first place!

"Sit back down," Yasha ordered evenly.

"Why should I? I have food and a television at home."

Yasha sighed, pushing his book aside once again. "Hungry?"

"A little," she admitted. Her stomach rumbled and she blushed. "Okay, maybe a lot."

Standing up with a fluid grace Kagome found herself in awe of, Yasha crossed in front of her and disappeared into the darknened hallways beyond. She listened to the sound of cabinet doors opening and closing, followed by the tell-tale clink of flatware on china and the crunch of a refrigerator door closing. Seconds later he reappeared, setting a plate of cheese, fresh bread, and grapes on the coffee table in front of her.

"Thanks." She reached out slowly for a small clump of the fruit while Yasha sat back down in his arm chair.

"I don't want to hear a single complaint," he announced.

"Eh?"

"The story. I warned that you wouldn't care for it, but I don't feel like listening to you whine about boredom all night." He closed his eyes in silent contemplation as Kagome settled herself more comfortably on the settee.

"It all started six hundred years ago."

* * *

**Author's Note(s):**

I have good news, and I have bad news.

The good news is, this story is not replacing Makai to Jigoku no Aida. I started this one a while back on a whim when I didn't have access to my Makai...Aida files. Figured I'd dust it (and the second chapter, to come shortly) off and go ahead and post.

The bad news is, I'm making you wait until I finish Makai...Aida to get the rest of the story. Why? Because it isn't written, yet!

Oh, and if you're curious about "For the First Time"... that one is on hiatus, and probably will be written either AFTER this one, or in conjunction with it. Depends on my workload, so we'll see.


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note(s):**

This is a repeat chapter for some of you. The first chapter accidentally contained both1 and 2,and the update took a full day to go through. So if you read the second chapter already, I'm sorry for the tease. I _might _consider doing chapter 3 before I finish the other story to make it up to you, but please don't get your hopes up.

Also, while a good deal of this story is "Yasha" telling his story, there is more interesting stuff to come. Please bear with me through the re-telling. At least you get to see his view of it, and her reactions. Finally, if you don't like AU fics, please don't stop reading. It's not necessarily AU. Kukuku...

**

* * *

****Memoires of Rain**  
Chapter Two

"In the forests of Eastern Japan -- before it was called Japan -- he ran. He ran from humans, he ran from demons. His mother had died only weeks after his fifth birthday, his father five years before on the very day he was born. His name was Inuyasha, and he was hanyou."

Kagome pinned her companion with a dubious look. "Inuyasha, hm? Don't suppose this 'half-demon' of yours had black hair and violet eyes, too? Since he seems to share a name with you, that is."

Yasha glared back at her. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"All right, all right," she sat back with an indulgent smile, "go on."

"Most dog demons have silver or white hair," he ground out with obvious irritation. "So no, his hair wasn't black and his eyes were yellow. Not that any of that matters."

"Of course it does! Every good story gives ample description of its main characters. How many books have you sold?" She shrunk back at his furious glare. "Sorry."

"He doesn't think much on his appearance -- it was the very thing that gave him away as an outsider. Inuyasha could have passed for a human were it not for his damned puppy ears--"

"Puppy ears? Oh, kawaii!"

Yasha ignored her, "and his clawed hands. He tried, in fact, to find a home with his mother's family but was locked away behind sealing scrolls and nearly starved to death. His father's vassal, Myouga, managed to free him by possessing a large boar and inciting it to crash into the storage shed that was Inuyasha's prison. After that, he had nowhere to go so he ran."

"Poor little boy! Why didn't Myouga take care of him?"

"Myouga did what he could but, as a flea demon, he was hardly in a position to take care of a hanyou whelp. In fact, Myouga was barely good for anything at all aside from being a source of information, occasional company, and annoying chatter." Yasha paused a moment to study his audience. "Come to think of it, I think the two of you would have gotten along wonderfully."

Kagome narrowed her eyes at him but otherwise ignored the jibe as she reached for a couple of crackers.

"As the years wore on, Inuyasha rapidly learned to take care of himself: he hunted his dinner, slept above ground in trees, and made use of his claws to defend himself from predators. By the time he reached adolescence he could bring down enemies three times his size with a single swipe of his claws.

"It was around this time that he met the first of two women who would forever change his life."

"Of course," Kagome rolled her eyes. "Every good fairy tale has a love interest."

Yasha paused in his tale, growling with frustration. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"No, no please," she apologized with ill-concealed amusement. "Go on."

"This isn't a fairy tale, woman. It's a history."

"Yes, a history with demons."

"You don't believe in demons?"

She remained silent, as though the answer should have been painfully obvious.

Against his better judgment, Yasha proceeded with the story. "She was a priestess in the village neighboring his forest, a silent beauty with sad, haunted eyes. Like Inuyasha, her only living relative was a sibling and she, too, knew what it was to feel isolated from the world around her.

"At first they were friendly enemies. He'd taken an interest in a jewel of immense power, the care of which she was entrusted with. For many weeks he attempted to steal this jewel from her, and each time she would pin him to a tree with her arrows. Kikyo was a master archer."

Kagome blinked at his wistful tone, amused by the way he seemed to emote along with the story.

"After a while, Inuyasha asked Kikyou why she refused to kill him, and she replied, 'because we are the same, you and I.' Naturally this pissed him off, and his gruff dismissal hurt the priestess. In that moment, when Kikyou's sad eyes turned toward him with such defeat, Inuyasha's heart opened up for the first time. It was a tiny crack, but it was there.

"They began to meet in the evenings, watching the sun set over her village while they discussed the challenges in their lives, their dreams, and on rare occasions, their families. Kikyou longed to be a mother, because her own had died when she was ten years old and so many years spent raising her younger sister gave her just enough practice to wish for a child of her own. Inuyasha just wanted to be accepted. He was tired of running and living just to exist."

Kagome's eyes misted over and she sniffled a bit. "That's so sad. Please, tell me they ended up together."

Yasha looked away, staring hard into the flames of his hearth. "No, they didn't. Not at first.

"On one of their sunset evenings, Kikyou suggested a way to make both their dreams come true. If Inuyasha wished on the jewel to become human she believed the orb would disappear forever, leaving her free to pursue the normal life of a village woman. As a human, Inuyasha could become her husband and the father of her children. Having fallen in love with the priestess, and wanting nothing more than to take the sadness from her eyes, Inuyasha easily agreed to her plan; they arranged to meet the next morning to make the wish."

"Something went wrong," Kagome surmised, finding herself increasingly drawn towards Yasha's strange story.

"You could say that," he answered her with a bitter snort. "What Kikyou hadn't told Inuyasha was that she was nursing an evil bandit by the name of Onigumo. He'd developed an obsession with her, to the point that he sacrificed his evil soul to a hoard of demons. They gave him a new, more powerful body making him into the half-demon known to history as Naraku."

"That name sounds familiar," Kagome whispered. "I don't know where from, though. Certainly never knew anyone in a gang when I was growing up, except—" she stopped herself, blushing a bit. "Nevermind."

Yasha's eyebrows rose at the interruption. "If you insist on interrupting me, then you might as well make it worth my while."

She sighed, hesitating a moment. "It's just that… there is a three-year period of my life I have no memories of. I was in some kind of accident when I was eighteen. Despite my mother's attempts to fill in the blanks, I never did remember the events of those three years on my own. So I suppose it's possible that I knew a Naraku back then. Still, given what it means in my language…"

"You don't know this Naraku," he spoke firmly, "and for that you should be eternally grateful."

"Real asshole, hm?" Kagome remarked lightly, having shaken off her surprise at the name.

"He tricked them both, starting with Kikyou. Taking the form of Inuyasha, he asked her her to meet earlier in the morning, at dawn. But when Kikyou arrived in the fields to find herself standing alone, he attacked her, slashing her shoulder with his copied claws and stealing the jewel from her hands. In Inuyasha's voice, he told her that he'd never had any intention of becoming human, and then he ran off to replace the jewel in the shrine.

"Later that morning, Inuyasha waited patiently beneath the God tree just outside Kikyou's village. Naraku reappeared, this time disguised as Kikyou, and attacked with her arrows. He taunted Inuyasha in a voice filled with loathing. 'You honestly thought I'd give the jewel to a worthless half-demon like you?' In a rage born of heartache and embarrassment, Inuyasha attacked the village, stormed the shrine, and took the jewel for himself. He had every intention of using it to become a full demon.

"As he fled toward the forest, Kikyou caught up to him. She, herself, was filled with a rage of betrayal and with her last bit of strength, shot a sealing arrow into Inuyasha's heart. He was pinned to the God Tree, in a sleep that would last fifty years. Moments later, surrounded by the villagers and at her young sister's side, Kikyou ordered that the jewel be burned with her body… and she died."

A soft sniffling echoed around the room, bringing Yasha's attention back to his houseguest. "What's wrong with you now?"

Kagome blinked away her tears in confusion. "How can you tell that story without shedding a single tear? Are you completely heartless?"

Gritting his teeth together, Yasha closed his eyes. "It's my story, woman. I'm not about to go bawling over it like a little girl."

"Yeah, fine, whatever," she snapped. "And to think I was really starting to feel this story."

"Do you want to keep crying and complaining, or do you want me to finish?"

"There's more?"

He rolled his eyes and shifted in his chair, once again turning his gaze to the fireplace. "That was only the prologue, little woman."

Ignoring his rude tone, Kagome made herself more comfortable on the settee. "All right then, please go on."

"As I was saying, Inuyasha slept for fifty years…"


End file.
